They All Lived Story 10b: The Urn of Andrixos
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Edward and Alphonse are asked to go to the seaside Cretan city of Pylos to look at an recently uncovered ancient artifact that is reported to have alchemical significance. But there are many parties who would like to get their hands on this priceless item


May 3rd, 1934

Alphonse Elric was sure he was going to have a heart attack, or at least an aneurism, when he walked in the door of their new home that evening. "Elicia, get down from there!"

His wife stood on the couch, looking down at him with a 'what's with you' expression, caught in the middle of hanging curtains. "What, you don't like them?" she looked back up.

Al sighed and shook his head, coming over and trying not to knock her over as he tried to make her come down. "They're fine, but you're not supposed to be in high places! What if you got light headed and fell?" She was seven months pregnant for crying out loud!

At that, Elicia rolled her eyes and turned to face him, one hand going to her belly. "We're fine, Alphonse. Now will you relax? I've almost got these hung."

"I'll finish them," Al promised. "Just please! Will you get down from there?" He held out his arms as offered support and askance for her to step down. She'd had a couple of dizzy spells in the past few months. Not often, and while he had been assured they were normal, she had been told to keep her feet solidly on the ground!

"Fine," Elicia sighed, but reached out and took his arms, stepping back down to the floor without incident. "There, are you happy?"

"Yes," Al relaxed then, giving her a brief hug before letting go. He loved Elicia but sometimes he still wondered what he'd gotten himself into! They had only just celebrated their first wedding anniversary less than three weeks before, but life seemed like a whirlwind since their wedding. Only six months into being married, Elicia had informed him that she was pregnant. A delightful development of course, but they had kind of thought it wouldn't be quite so soon!

Of course, like Ed and Winry before them, Al and Elicia knew they couldn't really fit a small family into the apartment above Rockbell Auto-mail. They found a house of their own, only a few blocks from Gracia's as luck would have it, on the closer side to Ed's than HQ, and had started moving in as soon as the papers were signed.

Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – Elicia greatly enjoyed decorating their new home. Some women, Al knew, started nesting when they neared the end of their pregnancies; getting their house ready, cleaning incessantly, and doing all sorts of strange little things. It was supposed to be a sign of impending labor. He suspected that he would have no such luck when it came to signs….Elicia had been decorating and cleaning since day one!

Since she wasn't normally so obsessive, Al just smiled and put up with it. Their little gray cat, Nessa, was not so patient. She padded around the house meowing dejectedly every time something changed!

Al didn't so much mind the changes to the house. What had him distracted most days were the changes to Elicia's body! It wasn't as if he had never been around a pregnant woman before. Hell, he had helped Ed survive both of Winry's pregnancies. He was just glad Elicia wasn't as prone to violence when her moods got unpredictable! But it was another thing entirely when those changes were happening to the woman who shared his bed; when they were very much also his doing!

His brother was right; fantastic as the whole process was, it was a lot more amazing, and terrifying, when it was your own wife and kid!

"Hey, daydreamer, have I lost you?" Elicia smiled up at him.

Al chuckled. "Yeah, sorry; just thinking." He kissed her before letting go.

"You do that a lot," Elicia teased, winking at him. "If you'll finish hanging these, I'll go check on dinner. Mom's been spoiling us again. She brought over a lasagna and pie earlier."

Al groaned, even as he smiled and slipped his boots off. He climbed up onto the couch Elicia had just vacated to do as she asked. "I think Gracia forgets that _some_ of us have to fit in uniform!"

"Oh please," Elicia laughed. "That's not a problem for you."

"No, but I'd rather keep it that way," Al retorted as he finished getting the curtains up relatively quickly. Elicia had almost finished hanging them before he had gotten home. Al suspected that might have been on purpose to avoid the scolding she had gotten anyway! "I'm not Edward," he said as he got back down.

"Thank goodness," Elicia smiled as she checked the oven, where the food was warming. "That fact alone keeps the grocery bills down!"

Al walked up behind her as she stood, wrapping his arms around her. His hands rested lightly on top of her stomach. "Not so much," he teased. "If anyone could out-eat my brother lately, it's you."

Elicia turned her head and stuck her tongue out at him. "Hardly; I think that really is a singular talent of Edward's." She leaned back against him. "Though while you're back there," she chuckled, "I could use a good back massage and we have a little time."

"Let's move this someplace more comfortable," Al replied agreeably. They went into the bedroom and Elicia lay down on her side. It was always easiest to give her a massage that way. Al was getting pretty good at giving massages too! Especially in the last couple of months, when the unborn baby she carried had really started growing. Somewhere about the same time it had started kicking, Elicia's stomach had also grown beyond 'cute.' Or so she kept complaining. Al just smiled and told her she was beautiful; it was the truth after all!

He knew they were both looking forward to the end result; for the next couple of months to go by and their child to join them in the outside world! Al wanted to be more helpful, and he was looking forward to fatherhood. He was good with kids, and so was Elicia. Al wasn't really worried about their abilities as parents; pregnancy seemed to be the really trying part!

Halfway through the massage, Al shook himself out of his silent musings to find that Elicia had fallen asleep.

May 4th, 1934

"What do you two think?" Roy Mustang shoved a report and a newspaper article across his desk at Ed and Al.

Ed picked it up, curious, and Al peeked over his shoulder. The article was out of a Cretan paper, and the letter that accompanied it a message from Elias Argyros, president of Creta. 'Mythical Urn Uncovered?' the title proclaimed, and the rest of the article detailed the recent donation of a very unusual little vase to the Cretan Historical Museum. What Ed was most interested in, however, was the photo of the item in question. There was a very unusual pattern on the side of it; sort of like a transmutation circle, but too disjointed to ever work. "It sure sounds like the Urn of Andrixos," he commented. It was a legend he had read of in only a very few texts, the references were so obscure. Though his father had written about it in his notes at one point. Perhaps the oldest alchemical artifact; in the unlikely location of Creta, with a form other than a traditional transmutation circle; but touching it was supposed to do… something. What it did exactly was the stuff of legends even sketchier than what Ed had found on the Philosopher's Stone as a kid. "That pattern looks interesting too."

"That's what Elias thought," Roy nodded. "The museum has requested that an expert in alchemy be sent to study the urn, and determine if it is indeed the Urn of Andrixos."

"If it is, imagine what that could mean," Al commented enthusiastically.

Ed nodded. Andrixos had been the first king who had united Creta, and also legend had it that he had amazing powers that none of the early Cretans had fully understood; alchemy almost certainly. Ed doubted those powers had come 'from the gods' as Cretan ancient texts claimed! "Don't they have their own researchers?" he asked, handing the article back to Al as he took a closer look at the letter.

"Experts on old pottery sure," Roy shrugged. "But not on obscure alchemical phenomena and artifacts."

"Aren't a lot of those sitting around," Ed agreed. Elias' letter was requesting Roy's assistance in finding an alchemist or two who would be willing to travel to the city of Pylos – a sea-side city on the far side of Creta – to the museum and take a look at the Urn first hand. Ed could just imagine what it would be like to get his hands on something like that; an ancient alchemical legend, like the Stone but without the stigma; the possibilities were incredible!

"I told Elias I'd see if you two wanted the job," Roy replied, cutting to the chase.

"Us?" Ed looked up from his daydream of handling the Urn. He grinned. "You're not kidding me. That would be fantastic!"

"It's a great honor," Al agreed behind him, but Ed heard hesitation in his voice.

"What's the problem Al?" Ed turned and looked at his brother.

Alphonse shrugged. "It's a great opportunity. You should go, Ed. I just don't think Elicia would be pleased if I harried off to Creta right now!"

"Oh right," Ed chuckled, smirking. "Comfy on that short leash are we?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Al scowled, apparently not amused.

"Easy, easy," Ed laughed. "I'm kidding. But seriously, we're looking at maybe three weeks tops, Al. Travel time plus a couple of days sitting in a museum looking at this Urn, if it takes that long. It shouldn't take long to figure out if this is the real Urn of Andrixos or not, or if it's something else that might be useful. Besides," he added knowingly, "You could use the break while you can still take one. Won't be much time when the kiddo gets here. And you're a little uptight lately." Something rare enough for Alphonse that Ed knew his brother could use a little vacation!

Al sighed. "Yeah," he agreed. "You're right about that. I'd just feel guilty leaving her alone right now, you know?"

"Been there," Roy smirked. "I'd really prefer to have you both on this assignment, but I'm not going to get in the middle of your home life."

"Don't trust me on my own in Creta, Mustang?" Ed quipped. He was pretty sure Winry wouldn't mind him going. It should be a fairly uneventful trip, and he needed to get out sometimes!

"I don't trust Creta when it comes to you," Roy corrected. "Not after last time. Besides, I'd be a fool not to send both halves of the best team we've ever had."

"Compliments? Awe," Ed laughed. "Should we be flattered or worried?" He was ready to go! And he didn't hold Roy's reservation against him after the near fiasco a few years ago when they had gone to Creta as Argyros' guests.

Privately, he thought he could convince Al to go too. Much as he loved his brother, he knew that Al was unusually wound up right now, and he was driving Elicia a little nuts because he was just that over-attentive! Or so Ed had heard from Winry. Besides, Elicia was a capable woman. She would be fine for a couple of weeks. It wasn't as if she wouldn't have Gracia and Winry around if she needed anything. "You at least going to ask Elicia before you turn this chance down, Al?" he looked back to his brother. "You know you want to go."

He could almost see Al's desire to go warring with his sometimes too-sensible conscience. Finally, Al nodded. "I'll talk to Elicia."

"Great!" Ed slapped him on the back. "Then we're as good as gone! When do you want us ready to go, Mustang?"

Roy looked amused. "Two days, Ed. The museum is very anxious to get this looked into. They'll have a translator there for you to work with as well, so you won't be trying to read Ancient Cretan."

That would definitely be helpful.

"Hey, I didn't say I was going…" Al started to object, but Ed cut him off.

"Yeah I know. I heard what you said. Come on, Al. Let's leave the President here to his work and get back to ours." He shoved Al out the door ahead of him. This was the chance of a lifetime, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let his brother miss out on it!

May 6th, 1934

Alphonse was feeling a little humbled as he and Ed hugged their wives goodbye at the station and boarded the train for Creta. Elicia had been absolutely thrilled that Al would have the opportunity to go with Ed and take a look at this Urn. She had assured him she would be just fine and not to worry about things at home.

"Elicia didn't seem too heart-broken about you coming," Ed grinned at Al as he stowed his suitcase overhead in their compartment.

Al sighed. "You were right," he admitted. "She said it was a great opportunity and I could use the 'vacation.'" He had been running higher stress than normal lately, Ed and Elicia were right. He smiled as he turned to his brother. "So I'm just looking forward to it."

"That's the spirit," Ed laughed. "Come on, let's head down to the dining car."

"Already?" Al gave his brother a knowing look. "Do I even need to ask why?"

"Not really," Ed laughed. "We have a week on this train, and what kind of an older brother would I be if I didn't make sure you really relaxed and enjoyed this trip? I figure a couple of drinks, a snack, a game of cards…or fifteen. Just like old times."

"Hopefully not 'just' like old times," Al countered, though he smiled as they headed back toward the dining car.

"All right, better," Ed shrugged. "Better drinks and I promise not to cheat."

"So you're paying then?" Al asked, smiling.

Ed smirked. "As long as you don't run up too high of a bar tab."

The suggestion was so absurd, both brothers laughed.

May 10th, 1934

"Discarding two," Ed spoke around the toothpick nestled between his teeth. He put two cards down, and picked up the new ones off the stack. Jack and Queen; he could definitely live with those! Right suits too. He peeked up over his cards at Al.

"I'm holding here," Al replied. That was it then; he laid out his cards. "Two pair."

Ed chuckled. "Not bad. Sorry Al…" he laid out his hand. "Full house."

"You've gotten better at this," Al groaned. It wasn't like Ed could have cheated on their games lately. He'd been wearing short sleeved shirts, or shirts with actual cuffed sleeves. That, and he really didn't feel the need to.

"Practice," Ed grinned. "You should play against Roy sometime. He's pretty sharp."

"I'd lose too much money," Al laughed, leaning back against the seat. "I'll stick with playing you. At least then I know I might see it again sometime."

They were in the observation car, enjoying the scenery and the use of table space. It was right in front of the dining car too, which made it very convenient! Four days into the trip, and Ed was doing his best not to get too stir crazy. They had crossed into Creta already, but they were going much farther than the last time Ed had been here.

Ed took his winnings and shuffled the deck. "One more?"

"Mind dealing me in?" A familiar voice said as a hand landed on the table next to Ed's glass holding a few sens.

Ed looked up at the man standing above them; blonde hair and silver eyes grinned at them from under his hat. "Russell Tringham," Ed laughed. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"Hey Russell," Al slid over and Russell dropped into the seat next to him. They hadn't seen the Tringhams in a few years, though Ed kept his ears out for news of any alchemists, and they were around from time to time. They had first run into Russell and Fletcher again not too long after the Drachman border dispute and most recently not too long before Ed had gone on his last fateful trip to Creta.

"Probably the same thing you are," Russell smirked as he dropped a few sens into the 'pot.' He set his own glass down on the table. He pulled his hat off and hung it on the edge of the seat. "I shouldn't be surprised to see the two of you at all really, considering."

"How's Fletcher?" Al asked conversationally as Ed went ahead and dealt a round for three. "Are you still living in Xenotime?"

"Fletcher is," Russell nodded. "He and his wife both; you remember Elisa. He's been doing a lot of research into botanical alchemy, and it's really paying off."

"Glad to hear it," Ed nodded. He took a look at his hand and tried not to grimace; the cards were not particularly forgiving as a place to start. This might be the round for some serious bluffing.

"And you?" Al could always be counted on to maintain social conversation. Ed was glad for it; that meant he usually didn't have to!

"Doing a lot more traveling," Russell admitted with a chuckle as he looked at his own hand. "Xenotime's a nice town, but any place can get a little cloying from time to time you know?"

There was something Russell wasn't saying, but Ed wasn't about to press, and apparently neither was Al. The pointed lack of reference to any ladies on Russell's part – unusual really given how he'd gone on about a couple of girls the last time they'd talked – implied something. Ed figured they would find out what it was later if it was really important. If not well, it wasn't really any of their business.

"Sure do," Ed smiled, nodding in agreement. "Nice to get out of Central for a bit, even if it's a short trip. Though for once I'm the one trying to get 'him' to lighten up," he gestured at Al and grinned. "Casanova here had the 'good fortune' to get his lovely wife pregnant before a year was out."

Russell grinned at that. "Should I say congratulations or offer my condolences?" he teased.

Al rolled his eyes and looked at his cards. "You should play cards," he suggested.

May 14th, 1934

The city of Pylos was right on the sea, a beautiful spectacle of architecture from a long gone age. Nothing this old existed in Amestris; it had been far too war torn over the years. The feel, Ed placed it immediately in his mind, was very Mediterranean, even if it wasn't called that here.

They arrived early in the afternoon after several more days of playing cards and conversation; usually with Russell joining in. Ed didn't mind, Russell was a lousy card player compared to him! It made the games more interesting, and the conversation as much so since it usually turned to alchemy and the Urn they were going to see. Ed had agreed, though he couldn't promise anything, to let Russell tag along and maybe get a close up look at the Urn. His alchemic specialties were different from the brothers', and that meant he might actually be useful.

They were greeted at the door by a rather stiff looking curator with gray hair who nodded respectfully. "Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, thank you for coming," He shook their hands. "May I ask who this is?" he looked questioningly at Russell.

"Russell Tringham," Ed cut in before Russell could get annoyed. "He's a skilled alchemist. I asked him along for his observations and insights as well."

"I see." The man still seemed hesitant, but he nodded, shook Russell's hand, and led them inside. "Professor Lyrakos is waiting for you in his office." The museum was closely tied to the University here in Pylos, and was actually at the edge of the University property.

It was a beautiful old building; an ancient palace restored and renovated, like so many historical buildings in Creta. They were led through the public areas and soon into the back where the real work was done in any museum. Ed was kind of glad for that; three blond men wandering through Creta attracted some attention, even on a University campus!

"Welcome," Professor Enos Lyrakos nodded to them all when they entered his office a few minutes later. The man who had escorted them left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Lyrakos' face became a little more serious. "I am grateful to you for coming, and that is why it pains me to say this, but it seems you have arrived at a bad time."

"What do you mean?" Ed asked. There was something going on here.

Lyrakos sighed. "The Urn has been stolen."

"Stolen!" Russell exclaimed angrily. "How the hell could something like that have been stolen? Don't you have security?"

"Of course we do," Lyrakos scowled.

"Calm down, Russell," Al placated the other hot-tempered man in the room.

"It would be far too easy to steal something like that," Ed sighed, nodding. He knew enough about sneaking himself but, more importantly, he had seen a master thief at work; and if that thief was an alchemist... "Especially for an alchemist. You'd almost never know how they did it if they were careful."

Lyrakos nodded, apparently relieved that someone understood the situation. "There are several parties we suspect could be at fault. We haven't advertised the theft of course; the last thing we need is coverage like that at the moment! But needless to say, we contacted President Argyros this morning, and he was very upset as well."

"I don't blame him." Ed really wanted to get his hands on that thing; now for other reasons! "If it's been stolen, someone must believe the hype."

"That or they just want to make a lot of money off it," Russell shrugged. "It doesn't have to be about alchemy does it?"

"No, but then they could have taken so many other things more easily," Ed shook his head. "You said you already had suspects in mind?"

Lyrakos shrugged. "As best we can manage. There have been rumors of Drachman art thieves in other cities recently; moving in this direction. It could be any number of people interested in it for its monetary worth or its alchemical value; the police could tell you more on that than I; and of course, there's always the Cosa Nostra; for their own reasons."

"The who?" Russell looked lost.

That term caught Ed's ear immediately. It was the same one used on the other side of the Gate. In a way, he really wasn't that surprised. "On the other side, some call them the Mafia; powerful families with a low price on other people's lives."

"Short, but reasonably accurate," Lyrakos sighed, though he seemed surprised Ed knew that much. "Either way, plenty of collectors would pay an arm and a …well," he looked highly embarrassed for a moment and eyed Ed's covered limbs before continuing. Obviously he had just remembered who he was talking to. "Top dollar for something like that on the black market."

Ed was not insulted by the phrase; in truth, he found his own payments for his sins ironic more than anything else. He shrugged. "They would. Or someone could be keeping it for their own use if they have any idea of what it can do."

"Or just want to find out," Al nodded, sighing.

"President Argyros sent a request back to me," Lyrakos said then, "And I echo it whole heartedly when I ask this. Though please understand that you are not under obligation to accept. We would be honored and appreciative if you could give us any assistance in resolving the matter."

"Getting the Urn back you mean." Ed pondered that a moment. They certainly weren't going to get a chance to look at it otherwise and now that they were here he wasn't inclined to go back empty handed! He looked at his brother and Russell.

"We should help," Al replied without hesitation, though Ed could see that his brother's heart wasn't in it. Of course, he would be worried about this delaying their return home.

"I'm all for it," Russell nodded grimly.

"I guess you have your answer then," Ed turned back to the head Curator of the museum. "We'll see what we can do. I'd like to inspect the crime scene myself if possible, and talk to the police about what they found."

"Of course," Lyrakos replied, obviously relieved already just by their willingness to help. "This way. I'll show you where we were keeping it. It wasn't even out on display yet," he sighed. "We have a research lab where we study all of our artifacts and clean and restore them as necessary before they go on display."

The rest of the afternoon was spent investigating. Ed, Al, and Russell all examined the scene and, indeed, found nothing more useful than what they found out later from the Pylos police officers who had investigated the scene that morning.

"So," Ed asked finally. "If you were going to sell off a priceless artifact in this city, where would you take it?" They needed somewhere to start looking, and that seemed to be the best bet.

"Here," one of the police officers handed him a card with an address on it. "It's the biggest black market auction in Creta."

"And you haven't shut it down?" Ed asked incredulously.

They shook their heads. "It's 'technically' legitimate, and we know where it is," one of them pointed out. "It's also far too dangerous to try and clear the place out. Getting in is difficult enough."

"Sounds like just our place then," Ed replied. "Thank you gentlemen. You won't mind if we do a little investigating do you? We can always say we did it without your backing of course if it will cause you fewer problems."

"Normally, I'd say yes," the police chief sighed. "But this is a high profile case. If you can crack it than it's better to risk you than the necks of my men."

"Gee thanks," Russell scowled.

"I agree," Ed replied over Russell's comment. "Your men are good, but they're not alchemists. We'll report back anything useful we find out."

They finished up and headed back to the hotel.

"Is this wise?" Alphonse frowned when the three of them were up in the room that had been reserved for the brothers during their stay.

"You have a better idea?" Ed snorted.

"Undoubtedly," Russell countered. "What _is_ the plan?"

Ed grinned. "I'm going to go in and scope the place out. Once I know the lay out, and where they're keeping it, getting a hold of it will be a piece of cake."

"And they won't notice a stranger sneaking around as suspicious?" Russell rolled his eyes. "Great plan, Ed. Every eye in the place will be on you."

"That's what you think." Ed was actually very proud of the plan he had concocted, simple, but effective. Simplicity was key in pulling something like this off well. He didn't like plans that were too complicated when there were multiple unknown entities involved. Too much could go wrong. He grinned wickedly at Russell. "They're going to be far too distracted by something much more interesting."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Russell asked, looking a little uneasy.

"Because, my friend," Ed smirked. "They're going to be far busier keeping their eye on the Fullmetal Alchemist."

As comprehension dawned in Russell's face, Ed had to try very hard not to laugh. "Oh no!" Russell shook his head vehemently. "That claim has already caused me way too much trouble!"

May 15th, 1934

It had taken Ed a while to convince Russell and Alphonse that his plan was sound and worth doing. Ed would go in undercover first, in disguise of course, as a 'legitimate' buyer for a rich client with ludicrously expensive tastes. There were enough of those out there without the scruples that would keep them from purchasing those items less than honestly. Ed had met several over the years, so the posing wouldn't be difficult. He wouldn't be asking about the Urn directly, but looking around. If he was vague enough, eventually he hoped to come around to at least finding its location.

After that, when it was going to be auctioned, Russell and Al would show up hoping to 'purchase' the item in question. Before they got that far in the auction process, with the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother as a distraction, Ed would sneak in behind the scenes, steal it, and head out. In any case, they would be completely unrelated parties in this little charade.

At least, that was how the plan was supposed to work.

The first part seemed to go off without a hitch. Ed disguised himself by transmuting his clothing into something a little more appropriate for the buyer working for someone of extreme wealth, and dyed his hair dark brown, pulling it back straight and slicking back his bangs. It looked bizarre to him in the mirror, but it definitely didn't look like Edward Elric.

Getting into the Auction House was a little more of a challenge. Ed had faked appropriate identification – much easier and more convincing with alchemy than any other method of forgery – and after answering several questions seemed to pass their minimal criteria for entry.

"Can I help you, sir?" A Cretan in a rather garish suit asked him as he stepped into the gloom of the large building that had, at one point, apparently been a very nice ancient theatre, but had been converted into an auction house in later years.

"Perhaps," Ed said, trying to look interested and mildly bored at the same time, as if he had been doing this for days. "My employer is looking to procure some fine Cretan antiques for his summer estate – apparently Xing is entirely out of fashion these days – and I've been looking for appropriate décor."

"I see," The Cretan smiled, clearly getting the idea that Ed worked for somebody well worth the effort of kissing up to. "If you're here, I take it you haven't had much luck elsewhere."

Ed snorted. "Not a bit. Everything is too common, too tasteless, or too subtle. He's got very particular tastes."

"I'm certain we can meet them," the man offered Ed his hand. "Rico Garallo, at your service. This is my establishment."

Ed had guessed as much. He had gotten as much information about the place from the police as he could, but he pretended not to know the name. He took his hand and offered a shake in return, noting that Garallo was also left handed, a plus, since it meant Ed shook with his flesh hand. With the auto-mail covered with a synthetic skin like the ones he had used in Europe, it would be less obvious who he really was. "Then you are definitely the man who can help me," he grinned.

Garallo led Ed through the main area, past the stage, and down one of the side doors, down a flight of stairs, and into the lower level, where all of the rooms had been turned into storage and display; the real area where business was done. "Some of our items have a pre-purchase price, if you don't want to take your chances with the bidding," he grinned. "Though I suspect that won't be as much of an issue for your employer."

"Not at all," Ed agreed, looking around. There were all sorts of stolen goods down here as well as legitimate sales; priceless works of art of all kinds that really belonged in museums. Most of them were harmless enough; paintings, statues, vases, whole frescoes removed from walls. Garallo showed him all these, and Ed pretended to have a strong interest in looking them over. He passed by a couple, for show, with a toss of his hand and the declaration that they were just like what he already had, or in the wrong style completely.

Ed made a point of showing a positive affirmation in three or four of the pieces, though he made no promises to buy immediately. He was actually tempted though; his own accounts would allow for a couple of the purchases here, and he might even be able to talk Mustang – or Argyros – into at least paying him back for them if he turned them over to either State. But he resisted for now.

None of the items he saw were even remotely alchemical in nature. That was actually a relief for the most part. What Ed did notice, was _who_ had brought most of these things for sale. Several minor members of wealthy Cretan families, a few Drachmans, even some folks from Aerugo.

"This is the prize in our collection at present," Garallo was smiling as he led Ed into a very small room near the end of the hall. There were few things in it, but the two large guards at the door made it clear that this was a serious matter. There were guards all along the way of course, but not two for one door.

Sitting on a pillar in the middle of the room, under a display light in the ceiling, sat the Urn of Andrixos. It took all of Ed's will power not to grab it now and make an attempt to get out. He knew he wouldn't make it past the guards; he'd be dead in a minute or less. "This is that Urn thing from the news right?" he asked. Only an idiot would have missed it, but he didn't want to seem too knowledgeable.

"The legendary Urn of Andrixos," Garallo nodded proudly. "One of our best regulars brought it in. Now this is a one of a kind item."

"Indeed," Ed stepped up close, not daring to touch it, but looking at the strange, intricate pattern on the side that people claimed was some strange form of transmutation circle.

Up close, Ed could tell that the item had definitely been created using alchemy, and that the circle was indeed one – that was what his instincts told him anyway. What was confusing was the lack of coherence to the pattern. The lines were not connected, and the pattern seemed to be inlaid on a flatter portion of the surface in many small pieces. What the heck? As he looked at them, he wondered if, maybe, they moved. If you shifted some of the pieces around, he thought they looked like they would, indeed, make a proper transmutation circle!

"Fascinating isn't it," Garallo was smiling, clearly thinking that Ed had found what he was looking for, or was just entranced by being nearly something quite so exquisite and rare. "That pattern on the side's definitely unique. Can't make any sense out of it myself."

"I'm surprised they haven't just ransomed it back to the museum," Ed commented.

Garallo laughed. "No doubt whoever purchases it will do that very same thing. Not my problem if they do either, we get a cut of whatever they pay for it here."

He seemed to laugh and smile a lot, but he was giving Ed the creeps. "Makes sense," he replied with a nod. "It's really something. I'll have a word with my employer about some of these pieces. It's the best selection I've seen so far." He pretended to look at the few other items in the room, looking for weaknesses in room security. There was an air vent, but Ed suspected that even he was too big to fit through it.

"Usually is," Garallo smiled greedily. "Next auction's in two days. This one's not on the pre-buy option," he added. "They're pretty hard bargainers, and it'll be worth a lot more in the open auction for certain. Bring your boss's wallet, you'll need it!"

Garallo escorted Ed back out, and Ed took every opportunity to note where things were; the tables where items sat – well guarded of course – during the auction, and after for pick-up. He was going to have to find a way to get the thing preferably before it made it out on the auction stage.

As soon as Ed was outside, he headed in a very round-about route back to the hotel. He didn't want to be followed. He stopped in a café, had a cup of coffee, slipped into a crowded bookstore, and transmuted his clothing and let his hair down before heading out again, leaving by a different door and sauntering casually in another direction.

When he got back to the hotel he filled Russell and Al in on what he'd found out.

"It'll be tricky," he admitted with a sigh. "The room's well guarded, and the only way in is a small air vent."

"And that's a problem?" Russell quipped.

Ed glared at him. "A _very_ small air vent," he repeated. "I'm not sure even my daughter could make it through. There are several spaces beyond that room though where getting a hold of it will be easier."

"It gives you a lot less time," Al pointed out, clearly concerned. "I don't like it."

"Hey, I can handle it," Ed smirked, though he didn't feel nearly as cocky as the statement sounded. "You two just keep them distracted. As long as they're not sure if the Fullmetal Alchemist is there as a threat or another buyer, they'll be a lot more concerned with you guys."

"I don't like being bait," Russell voiced his earlier objection.

"You're not bait," Ed lied. He knew Russell knew he was lying too. "You're the distraction."

"I'm bait," Russell repeated. "Is there any way to make sure they don't notice the theft?"

"Depends on how well I manage to switch them," Ed replied. He had picked up a cheap vase on the way back as well. It sat on the table between them. "Watch this." Closing his eyes, he visualized the urn he had analyzed in every detail. He had the picture from the paper too, which gave him a good reference of the pattern in question. Clapping his hands together, he touched the vase, and within seconds he had a very realistic replica, including the minor chips and inconsistencies in the surface, and areas where the other patterns had faded.

"Impressive detail," Alphonse whistled. "So that's what it looked like up close?"

"Exactly," Ed nodded, pleased with himself. The pattern pieces wouldn't move – and he was almost certain that the ones on the original were meant to shift somehow, probably with alchemy – but since no one down there knew they did, he suspected that wouldn't be a problem. "At least to anyone who isn't an alchemist who's already seen it up close."

"So we're good for now," Russell nodded. "Though I don't see how I'm going to pass for you now. People have a much better idea of what you look like."

"Around here, they just have a better description," Ed shook his head, and pulled out several pieces of junk metal he had also scrounged. The streets of Pylos were just full of useful junk! "You're blond, and you'll have Al. And this," he transmuted the metal, and within a few seconds had a fairly good looking copy of his own auto-mail arm; the exterior anyway. "This will fit over your arm," he explained. "Obviously it's not real auto-mail, but since you'll be in long sleeves and my gloves anyway, it's enough for anyone who doesn't examine you too closely. So just don't hook up with any girls while you're pretending to be me."

Russell glowered, and Al just sighed. Russell took the fake arm, removed his shirt, and slid the pieces on, connecting them with a little help from Ed. When they were done, he flexed his arm. The pieces clicked and sounded right, and he could still move his fingers and arm mostly like normal. "Nice work," he commented.

Ed grinned. "Of course. With that, you'll be good to go. We know you can do the act well enough otherwise."

"What about your hair?" Russell asked. His was still well shorter than Ed's.

Ed chuckled. "Last time I was here, the Flame Alchemist decided I needed a rather sudden hair cut in the middle of a mission. When I left Creta my hair was shorter than yours is now."

"I'd have liked to see that," Russell replied smugly. "So I guess that'll work then."

"I wish you had a better plan for sneaking in though," Alphonse commented, looking at Ed. "If the Urn is as heavily guarded as you say, it's going to be nearly impossible to get at it." He fell quiet then as he thought deeply.

"I'll take any suggestions you can come up with," Ed replied as he helped Russell take off the fake auto-mail again. "It's an interesting old building, used to be a theatre hundreds of years ago. Lots of little corners and shadows and hallways and rooms, but even having some idea of the lay out, it's going to be easy to get boxed in if I'm not careful."

"Wait, a theatre," Al looked up grinning. "The ancient Cretan theaters were full of passageways and tunnels and trap doors and things to give them a large variety of options for entrances and exits. I'll bet we could make use of those."

Leave it to Al to know something like that! Ed grinned. "Definitely. Any idea how to locate them?"

"I can look it up," Al offered. "They varied from theatre to theatre I'm sure, but there would be some standard ones."

"Do that," Ed nodded. Less known passages might not be guarded, and they would give him a much easier way of getting around without getting shot at in tight quarters.

May 17th, 1934

"More juice?" Winry offered.

"Yes please," Elicia smiled, glad she wouldn't have to budge from the couch. She felt mildly guilty about enjoying Alphonse's time out of town, but it had given her a little time to relax without him constantly worrying, hovering, and being more attentive than she could really stand at times.

Eleven days the boys had been gone so far, and things had been very peaceful.

"Here you go," Winry smiled as she sat down in one of the chairs in Al and Elicia's living room. She sipped from her own cup of tea. Both Sara and Aldon were out in the back yard exploring. The only other occupant of the room was the cat, who sunned herself in a splash of light on the wooden floor.

"What do you think the boys are up to today?" Elicia asked as she took her glass and sipped.

"Oh they're probably in the dusty back room of some library, staring intently at that old Urn with more rapt attention than they give us," Winry chuckled. "You know what they're like when it comes to anything related to alchemy, and this is a pretty big deal, even if it is a dusty old relic."

Elicia nodded. "So in other words, we're really not missing anything."

"Suddenly, I really wish I was back home," Alphonse commented quietly to Russell as they paused just down the street from the Auction House.

"I think I'm with you on that one," Russell replied; the other man looking more than a little pale. Of course, playing at being Ed had gotten him in trouble in the past, twice, so Al could understand his nervousness. "How did he talk me into this?"

"He played on your sense of curiosity, sense of pride, and inability to back down."

"Okay, so how did he talk you into this?" Russell sighed.

Al shrugged. "We didn't have a better plan. He knows what he's doing. If we do this right, all we have to do is walk in, be visible, waste a little time, bid on things but not win, and leave when it's over."

"You make that sound so easy," Russell frowned, then took a deep breath and put on a confident grin. "All right, Little Brother, let's go."

Al chuckled and fell into step beside Russell as they walked up to the building. Compared to what Ed had described, the place was jumping tonight, with lots of people going in the doors at this point in the evening. Most of them looked well off or – more often - like they worked for people who were well off.

The only requirement to get in tonight seemed to be to give your name, so they had a record of who was there.

"Edward Elric," Russell replied to the question without batting an eyelash.

That drew a startled blink and a sharp look that Russell met with a cool smirk that would have made Ed proud. Well, maybe not, but it was convincing! The man looked him over, then shrugged and looked at Al.

"Alphonse Elric," Al gave his name.

"Should've guessed," the large man snorted, putting down both names and motioning them inside.

What Al did notice, when they merged into the crowd, was that the man at the door leaned over and spoke to a shorter fellow, who darted off. Whoever they were reporting to, they would know very shortly that the Fullmetal Alchemist and the True Soul Alchemist were on the premises.

Primary mission accomplished then. The people who mattered would be keeping a sharp security eye on them. Al just hoped that Ed would be able to handle his part of things.

Edward made a point of showing up twenty minutes after he knew Al and Russell were supposed to be inside, and came from the opposite direction. He couldn't be too cautious. They had his alias from the last time he came in, and let him by without a second thought. That was good! Slipping the fake urn in was a little tricky but, fortunately for him, in the press of people no one questioned the fact he looked a little wider than the last time he'd been in. He had taken his fake apart and strapped the pieces to his body underneath his shirt. It felt weird, but no one saw them under the shirt and jacket. They were easy enough to put together again.

Now, to put the plan into action. He spotted Alphonse and "Edward" mingling in the crowd and edged away, glad – though he would never admit it aloud – that he was still small enough to vanish into a crowd. Angling as if he was heading for the restrooms, Ed got close to the wall, and spotted what he was looking for; a wall hanging that, with a wriggle, revealed an open walkway behind it. As a large crowd pressed by, Ed vanished into the hall beyond.

Inside he paused, breathing slowly and waiting to see if anyone had noticed him. After a couple of minutes, he figured he was probably good. Ed moved further into the dark hall and transmuted his clothing into something a little more appropriate for sneaking, less flapping parts that might snag on things. 'Let's just see what this place has to offer,' Ed commented in his head as he crept into the darkness. He was actually reassured by it; if they didn't keep these lit, and it was pretty dusty, that meant no one had used the hallway in a while.

He had a little time, so Ed explored. The hall hit one or two others, and there were a few openings into empty rooms full of dusty props. He suspected people had forgotten about them. A couple of openings were blocked by doors that seemed to have things pushed against them on the other side.

One of them was exactly what he needed. It came up directly under the stage! There was a space there, and Ed could crawl out right under the staging tables behind it where they were keeping the valuables! It was all Ed could do not to snigger as he went back to finish exploring.

The one thing he figured out was his only chance to make the switch was going to be while that Urn was on the tables back stage. There was no way he'd make it into and out of the room in the basement without getting caught and, very possibly, killed. Winry would be pretty pissed at him if that happened!

He heard the bidding start, and knew that the items were in transit to the stage. Quietly, Ed slipped back to the stage and underneath. No one would be able to hear him as he slid through the dusty crawl space, not with the auction going on. He made his way to the small opening at the back of the stage and squeezed through – a tight fit, even for him. Ed was glad he had forgone a heavy meal before coming!

Ed knew the back stage area was guarded, but only at the doors. A quick check underneath the edges of the heavy table cloth showed no feet nearby. Though as they called Lot numbers, he saw people come back and take things, then return when the bidding was over. The items that were done were the ones being set on the table he was under.

So…he was going to have to make the switch after the Urn had been bought. Great! As if his time to manage this wasn't tight enough! Fortunately, he had a little time to figure out how long each bidding session took. Each Lot got anywhere from one to five minutes, depending on how fierce the bidding was. On one painting the bidding went as long as eight minutes, and it went for an astronomically high amount!

Ed knew the Lot numbers for all the items he had supposedly been considering purchasing in his disguise, so when he heard the right number called he pulled out the fake urn pieces and, when no one was back stage, very carefully transmuted them back together, going slowly to minimize the light and sound involved. He had improved over the years, and he was getting better at subtleties. With all the noise behind him, no one seemed to notice.

He heard Russell's voice bidding, up to a rather frightening amount, though there were three or four other bidders who seemed intent on keeping it. Ed was actually relieved when Russell dropped out. They didn't have that much! Then the bidding was over. Some family whose name he didn't hear – Ed had no doubt they were probably Cosa Nostra – won the bid and the Urn was set down just above him as the next Lot was called.

Ed's heart began to pound a little harder, but he forced himself to count to twenty before he poked his head out from under the table. No one was around, and the guards outside the doors were looking 'out' not in! He slipped the fake up onto the table, making sure to set it just as the real had been, then pulled the real one back underneath.

That had been almost too easy. Ed froze, waiting through another three lots. No one noticed him. Of course, getting out again with the real Urn of Andrixos was going to take longer. Ed wasn't about to break this one down! Slowly, he began the crawl back under the stage to the hallway entrance, working carefully to make sure the Urn didn't get damaged.

Al was feeling a little more relaxed as he and Russell headed for the exits after the Auction was over. They hadn't heard a thing from Ed, and they had seen the Urn, but that didn't mean anything. He was looking forward to finding out how well Ed had succeeded. He figured that if Ed had failed catastrophically there would have been more commotion!

"That was invigorating," Russell snorted as they waited in the milling crowds.

"You're just sore because you didn't get anything," Al teased him, the way he would Ed. The banter had been pretty easy to keep up really as far as that part of the charade. Russell apparently had even less of a sense of humor than Ed did when he was in a bad mood.

"Let's just get out of here," Russell sighed.

"Excuse me," a relatively short, broadly built Cretan stepped in front of them. Al thought he looked like the man Ed had described; Garallo, who was in charge of the Auction house. "Misters Elric. If you would come with me please, one of my clients would like a word."

"Sorry," Russell shook his head. "We're a bit busy."

"You don't seem to understand," Garallo shook his head, and his smile became less friendly. "They insist."

It was only then that Al realized that the crowd was moving away from them, not hindering the movement of several of the guards. In fact, they seemed to be doing their best not to notice the rather obvious harassment. They were trapped and no one here would help them out, except maybe Ed if he was anywhere nearby. Silently, Al hoped he kept out of sight.

"Very well then, since you asked so nicely," Russell snorted, keeping up the façade; though Al thought Russell might have said it the same way as himself.

The two of them were led to a back room then. Inside, there was a well-dressed Cretan man, clearly noble, with three or four nearly as well dressed associates; Cosa Nostra no doubt. Al's heart sank. Sitting on the table was the Urn of Andrixos. Whether it was the real one, or Ed's copy, he couldn't tell.

"Welcome, gentlemen," the head man at the table smiled, though it hardly seemed friendly. "I am hoping that such esteemed alchemists as you might be willing to do me a little favor."

"You'd like us to decipher the Urn," Russell stated. That much was obvious.

"Truly the Fullmetal Alchemist is as sharp as I have heard," the man chuckled, giving Russell a contemplative look. None of the men with him smiled. "Will you do it?"

Russell shrugged. "Do we have a choice?"

"Sharp indeed." The smile dropped, and the man sighed. "You could certainly turn me down, but then I fear that this would have to turn unpleasant. If you would just do as I ask, than we will trouble you no further."

Al heard something behind him and glanced back. The door was closed. The armed men who had escorted them stood within the room as well. They were well and truly trapped unless they wanted to try and fight their way out against men with guns.

So much for the quick pleasant trip Ed had promised him!

"I don't read ancient Cretan," Russell pointed out. "But we'll take a look at it. Al?"

Alphonse turned back to him and nodded. Together they approached the Urn and, when no one attacked them, Russell picked it up. Al knew what he was looking for too. Ed had given them all the details about the real thing, including his suspicions on how to make it work.

There was only one problem with trying to check it; Russell wasn't Edward. He'd have to draw a transmutation circle in order to get the energy to test and see if the pieces moved. Russell gave it a long look then handed it over to Al. "What do you think?" he said softly, as if he was merely conferring.

Al rubbed his palms together as he took it, a subtle gesture, and took the Urn. Nothing happened. There was nothing special about this at all. It was, without a doubt, the very facsimile Ed had made back in their hotel room. "Fascinating," he commented in reply. "I've never seen anything like it."

"This will take some time," Russell told the men around them.

"That's fine," the man replied. "You can have all the time you need."

Yeah. They just wouldn't be getting away!

By the time Ed had gotten back out of the Auction house the bidding was over. He had used the old passages until he found an old stage door into an alley that was so old he had to use alchemy to open it.. He made his way around to the front of the building, just in time to see Al and Russell stopped by Garallo and herded elsewhere.

Damn it! That couldn't be good. Apparently the diversion had worked a little too well! The bag he had made out of his jacket now held the Urn of Andrixos though, so there was no way he was going back inside. Not just yet.

So Ed waited around for a bit, not entirely sure what else to do, but hoping that Russell and Al had only been temporarily detained. It was nearly an hour later when he saw them 'escorted' out, and hustled into a car that drove off almost immediately.

The man who followed them out however, made Ed's blood boil. He knew that face: Count Fiero Daquel! Of course, the last Ed had heard of him, President Argyros had used the information Ed and Roy had gathered to search the Daquel estate in the Cretan capitol and charge Daquel on several counts of embezzling government accounts. The man was down on his luck for a noble. Apparently he was also rather deeply involved in some other illegal activities; or had been driven to it when half of his estates were taken.

He and his wife had tried to ruin the treaty between Creta and Amestris by accusing Ed of infidelity with the Countess Maron herself. Ed wasn't inclined to feel friendly toward them. Especially not when they had his brother!

Wait. That really didn't add up. Ed scowled. Fiero Daquel knew him. He had seen him before. Unless the man was almost completely blind and deaf, there was no way he would mistake Russell Tringham for Edward Elric!

Which meant that Al and Russell might be in worse danger than he had realized.

Ed did his best to follow the cars without being seen, though it occurred to him that he could probably ask Lyrakos where Daquel lived here. Still, he couldn't guarantee that the other two men would be taken there.

He lost them before too long despite his best efforts. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Daquel wanted the Urn deciphered as much as everyone else did. Chances were he'd use it as a way to get back what he had lost.

Which meant Ed had better figure out how the Urn worked, and fast!

May 20th, 1934

"This was not the scenic trip I was hoping for," Russell grumbled.

"Me neither," Alphonse sighed. The two of them were tied to chairs, with the two chairs tied together back to back. Their hands were cuffed with wood too, so they couldn't do much. "How were we to know that man knew Ed?"

"That does it," Russell wriggled, trying to get loose, as he had tried for the past several hours. "Ed owes me big time for this one!"

After two days of trying to pretend to work on the obviously fake Urn, the Count Daquel had gotten impatient with them both and admitted that he knew that there was no way Russell was the real Edward. Al hadn't bothered to try and insist on being himself. That might be worse trouble! Better the man didn't realize that Ed was actually here, really involved, and had the real Urn! As soon as they had found out the man's name, Al had realized they were in trouble. He'd heard Ed's whole story about the Countess Maron Daquel!

At least Daquel was still convinced that the fake Urn was the real thing. But he had tied both men up for the time being. Apparently they would stay that way until he decided the best way to get rid of them.

Al sighed. "Elicia's going to kill me."

"If Daquel doesn't first," Russell replied; then he grew quiet. "I should have stayed home." From the tone of his voice, it wasn't being tied up that Russell was really regretting.

"Why did you really leave?" Al asked quietly. "You didn't want to talk about it before."

"I don't really want to now either," Russell snapped. "Not like we have anything else to do though, is there? There's this girl…"

"That seems to be how these stories usually start," Al chuckled. "Sorry. Go on."

Russell was probably glaring; Al couldn't tell. "Felicity moved into town a couple of years ago and set up shop; she runs a little café in Xenotime now, all fresh made food from local produce. The locals and travelers alike stop there all the time. I stopped in the first week and we started talking, hit it off immediately.. She's just so easy to talk to. She's beautiful too; the most beautiful brown hair and eyes; she's intelligent and so gentle…"

"So what's the problem?" Al prodded.

"She's engaged."

Aha. "That's a problem."

Russell shifted slightly. "Her fiancé is a Sergeant in the military. He's supposed to be done and out in the next few months though, and they had planned to move to Xenotime together. She came ahead."

"Does she feel the same way about you at all?" Al asked.

"I think so," Russell replied, sounding anything but sure. "But as soon as I showed an interest beyond friendship, she backed off a little. She still talks to me a lot, but there's a little bit more distance there. Like she's afraid of hurting him if she admits she has feelings for me." He sighed. "I could just be imagining that part of course. Fletcher and Elisa don't think so, but then I'm not sure how much I trust them to be objective on the subject."

"If she has feelings for both of you, than she needs to sort them out for herself," Al replied after a few moments of quiet. "But it's not fair to you, or her fiancé, if you don't find out for sure how she feels and either let her go or take a stand."

"Are you always this reasonable?" Russell snorted, though he chuckled just a little. "I think I finally understand how Edward survived to adulthood."

Al chuckled. "Insight and experience really," he said. "For both of us. I was a complete mess when Elicia and I started going out."

"Oh really?" Russell sounded intrigued. Perhaps the story would distract him.

"Oh sure," Al replied. "For starters, I was there the day she was born…"

"Any progress, Edward?" Lyrakos asked anxiously, looking over Ed's shoulder.

Ed shook his head slightly, not taking his bleary eyes from the pattern in front of him. Three days, and he still hadn't figured out the puzzle on the Urn. While the translations that the museum research team could provide were excellent, and helpful, they also made things a little more confusing. He had figured out most of where each piece needed to be, but not entirely how they needed to get there! And if he messed up, he was pretty sure that the entire thing would be ruined.

Three days with very little sleep. Ed took another long sip from the mug of coffee that had gone cold sitting next to him. He grimaced then drained the rest. "I'm getting closer," he replied. "But there are still a few pieces that I can't figure out how they fit. I'm pretty sure I'll only get one shot at this, so the last thing I can afford to do is screw it up." He was going on a hunch, but he was convinced that solving the Urn would be critical to getting Al and Russell out of the mess they were in. He hadn't been able to locate their exact location yet, though the Pylos police were working on it. They really had a better chance than Ed did of tracking Daquel without being noticed.

"If you can figure it out without destroying it, that 'would' be appreciated," Lyrakos nodded. "We're grateful for its return of course, and haven't breathed a word of it to the press or anyone else, as you requested."

"Thank you," Ed replied. If Daquel realized that the Urn he had was a fake too, he might just be mad enough to do something to Al and Russell before Ed could rescue them. "Damn it, I hate rush jobs like this." The pattern made more sense now than it had before, but there were still several pieces he hadn't managed to fit properly. They were close, but not quite exact for some reason. The pattern to shift them added up in some places, but not in others. In one part especially, the words didn't want to line up correctly. But maybe if he turned it this way…

That was it! The puzzle made sense if he just looked at it as three puzzles instead of one! The exterior pieces rotated around, but the interior shifted in two sets that did not cross. If he considered it that way, the entire thing was much simpler!

Ed started sketching furiously, working out the details of where each piece would fit to line up and, in a matter of minutes, he had it! It took a little longer to figure out the patterns, but once he did. "Done!" he grinned triumphantly, looking down at the sketch and the numbers and notations made around it.

Lyrakos looked mildly stunned, and more than a little impressed. "You're sure that's it?"

"Absolutely," Ed nodded firmly. "It's the only logical way to work it out, and once you understand how it works, it's surprisingly simple." He clapped his hands together and put them on the Urn of Andrixos. "Just watch." Oh he hoped he was right!

The Urn began to glow, and the pieces began to shift, those most to the outside rotating around, then stopping, then the pieces in the middle began to shift in two sets, some up, others down, until the only empty space was in the middle. The moment the single empty space hit the center, the flat piece behind the rest that contained the center of the pattern popped 'up' into place, and the entire circle glowed bright blue.

Ed took his hands off of the Urn, and only relaxed when nothing else happened.

"That's amazing," Lyrakos smiled eyes wide. "So this is it then, the real Urn of Andrixos. That's a transmutation circle?"

"An unusual one, but definitely," Ed agreed. "Step back please."

"What are you going to do?" Lyrakos asked, a crease of concern on his brow.

Ed clapped his hands together one more time and reached out with his left. "I'm going to find out exactly what this thing does."

Lyrakos jumped back. "Are you sure that's wise inside the museum?"

"No," Ed shrugged. "But I really doubt it's anything that will destroy the place."

His hand touched the transmutation circle, and it began to glow again slowly. Almost immediately, it flared, and there was a rushing sound as the air around them seemed to pull towards the Urn. Then it stopped again, almost anticlimactically. The glow faded.

"What happened?" Lyrakos asked. Ed could hear him moving forward again.

Ed peered over the edge of the Urn to look inside it. Then he began to laugh. "No wonder it was a priceless treasure!" he grinned, picking it up and holding it out so Lyrakos could see it.

Water. The Urn of Andrixos was full of good, clean water.

Lyrakos seemed to get the humor as well. He chuckled. "The greatest king of Creta was a sailor of legend, like most of our mythic heroes. What could be more precious to men who sailed the seas than an endless supply of drinking water?"

Ed dared to tip the Urn up and sip from it. The water was cool, fresh, and really quite good. "They could have stayed at sea longer than most with this," he nodded. "That certainly explains a lot about your history I'll bet."

"It does," Lyrakos smiled. "But I don't know how this is going to be useful in rescuing your friend and your brother."

But Ed already had an idea. He smirked. "That's all right. As soon as we find them, I think I do."

May 22nd, 1934

Edward slept like a rock the night after figuring out the secret of the Urn of Andrixos. Something so simple, and yet there were people out there who likely expected it to spew gold, or other such wealth, or make them immortal like the Philosopher's Stone would have supposedly done. Boy would they feel foolish knowing what it really did!

Apparently museums, like libraries, were known for having random sleeping areas for the folks who worked there. Ed had crashed out on one of the small beds in a back room in the research area. When he woke up it was late morning, and he wasn't entirely sure what had woken him.

"Mister Elric," one of the research assistants – Leta, a pretty dark haired girl with her hair back in a bun – was standing a few feet away. Apparently her entrance had been what woke him. Unfamiliar presences usually did. Ed was glad he hadn't bothered to do more than kick off his shoes before passing out! He was still dressed. "Your presence is requested in Lyrakos' office."

"Thank you, Leta," Ed stood up and pulled on his shoes. By the time he was done she'd left, and he hurried down the hall.

There were two familiar police officers in the office with Lyrakos. They all looked up as Ed entered. "What's going on?" he asked. "Did you find Al?"

The first officer nodded. "We've located where Fiero is holding both your brother and Mister Tringham. It's an old warehouse belonging to the Daquel family here," he pointed to a spot on a map of the city near the outskirts, where the land rose up away from the sea in a cliff-face covered in trees. "We've verified their location, but apparently the charade didn't hold up. Both of them are bound and locked in a storage room. We don't know the location of the Urn." The police had not been told that the Urn Daquel had was a fake. It had seemed prudent to tell as few people as possible.

Ed looked at the map. "How tight is security on the building?"

"No more than the usual," the police offer replied. "Apparently they don't want any attention drawn to it so it's just two guards. The only clue that something is strange is how often Fiero and his associates have been there recently. Our contact spotted them going in, and got a brief glance through the storage room window."

"Leave the Urn to me," Ed said. He should probably destroy the fake, though now that they had the real one, it didn't matter. The truth would come out soon enough. "I should be able to get in and out of there without any problem."

"Without being noticed?" they looked skeptical.

Ed smirked. "That's easy." What was challenging was the fact that he didn't want to go entirely unnoticed! Fiero Daquel had messed with him for the last time!

Al was getting very tired of waiting, and of being tied to a chair. He hadn't managed to scratch more than half of a transmutation circle in anything, and barely that. It wasn't helping. He couldn't finish anything that would be remotely functional. Russell had failed at even that much. They were tied with ropes and chains. Daquel hadn't visited recently, but that didn't mean much. For all they knew, he was plotting their quiet deaths, or waiting to see if their absence was even noted.

So when the door opened that afternoon, Al wasn't particularly surprised to see Fiero Daquel stride into the room, looking frustrated and paranoid. "I would like you to tell me why," He commented crossly, "there hasn't even been a missing person's bulletin put out on the two of you? There should at least have been that much! It's standard procedure."

"I told you we weren't important," Russell quipped, smirking. "Besides, for all anyone knows you got the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother right?" Which was clearly not the case.

Daquel fumed. "Edward Elric and his brother are supposed to be in the city. I know they arrived here. Since you are obviously not them, I would like to know where they are. Perhaps the real ones can do what you imposters obviously cannot."

"As if we'd know," Al shrugged unhelpfully. It was better to be an imposter than the real Al at this point! At least they hadn't been starved or tortured or anything inhumane.

"You're a Count," Russell continued. "Why don't you just go up to the museum and ask to talk to them? Surely you rate that much in your own country."

Knowing who the man was, it was a little satisfying to see Fiero Daquel turn bright red with rage. "If you know nothing, than you are of no further use to me." He snapped his fingers and footsteps were audible outside. "Marco! Dispense with these men at once."

The steps stopped, and Al almost laughed when he saw the man standing there in the Cretan guardsman's uniform. "Whatever you say, Fiero," Ed's familiar voice came out of the disguise and as Daquel turned around, Ed laid into him with a simple kick to the head that knocked him out cold. "Good to see you again too," Ed snorted as he walked over and transmuted his arm into it's familiar blade, cutting through ropes and chains alike with a couple of sharp hacks. Then he put his arm back to normal and undid their shackles. "Glad to see me?"

"Would have been happier if you'd been here a few days ago," Russell replied as he rubbed his wrists. "What took you so long?"

"I had to find this," Ed held up one of the Urns. He grinned as he smashed it into the floor, breaking it into a dozen pieces.

"I hope that was the fake," Russell voiced Al's thought out loud.

"Thanks for coming," Al chuckled as Ed rolled his eyes.

"Of course it was," Ed replied. "Do I look that stupid? No, wait, don't answer that. Let's just get out of here." They headed for the door.

"That might be more difficult than you imagine."

Al nearly ran into Edward who had stopped cold in front of him, and Russell ran into Al's back. Standing in front of them was a noblewoman and a row of men with guns trained on the three alchemists. From the way Ed's back had gone ramrod straight and tense – and his hair almost seemed to bristle – Alphonse had a pretty good idea of who was standing in front of them.

"Hello, Maron," Ed grimaced, glaring at the far too familiar woman in front of him. "What a shame it is to see you again, and looking so well."

"Such a greeting, Edward," she chuckled, clearly no more pleased to have Ed messing in her business. "And after all we've been through together."

"Shut up, you witch," Ed retorted, though his own vehemence surprised him. He'd proven they'd framed him years ago, and had enough evidence to flush them down the financial drain fairly solidly; prettier justice than any revenge could have been. Yet seeing her here made him want to do something a little more personal. "Get out of the way, and this doesn't have to get ugly." Hands behind his back, he wrung them together tightly.

"This from the one who has highly trained marksmen pointing guns at his head," Maron smirked. "Give up; you and your friends here. Perhaps the other one really is your brother; you have the same look." She glanced at Alphonse. "It would explain why you bother rescuing impostors."

"You only think you've got us outnumbered and outgunned," Ed smirked. He'd pulled bluffs on her before, time to try another one. "You didn't really think I'd come here without back up did you?"

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, and then she scowled. "I won't be fooled again, Elric. Give up now and give back the Urn."

"What happened to 'Edward?'" Ed snorted. Then his grinned broadened. "As for the Urn, you're too late. It's in there," he gestured back in the door. "You're welcome to it if you can put it back together."

Maron's eyes widened, and with a small gesture from her, one of the men edged to the side and slipped into the room they had just vacated. They heard the startled gasp. "It's shattered Countess! The Count is unconscious as well," he reported. Maron's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "You dishonor our family, injure my husband, and destroy our property; this is too much." As she talked, Ed watched her marksmen, their aim dropping just slightly. Apparently they were expecting more talk than anything else. That, or perhaps they did not take Maron as seriously as they did her husband.

Ed shrugged with both arms, palms up. "What can I say, I like to be thorough. You tried to screw me over once and did a lousy job. Let's just call it returning the favor. Problem is, I'm better at this than you are."

"Shoot them!" Maron barked, and as they took a second to aim, Ed had already hit the floor, the concrete shooting from the ground to block them in the brief time it took for them to fire.

"Run!" Ed shouted at Al and Russell as the firing stopped. He took off, darting through the rows of shelves that covered the warehouse floor.

"Which way?" Al shouted, as he followed.

Ed gestured towards the back. "There!" He nodded in the right direction. Near the back of the warehouse, at the top of some of the tallest shelves, one of the high windows was open. He had come down from there, approaching from the wooded cliffs.

"You didn't have to antagonize her," Al added as they ducked down a different aisle as fire opened up on them again.

"Nice girl," Russell added, sarcasm so thick Ed could have eaten off it. "No wonder you spoke so highly of her. A little too high strung for my tastes."

"Mine too," Ed retorted, then dodged and dropped to the ground, sliding under a toppled crate as the wood splintered around him. "Why do they always have to have guns?"

"You'd rather they were alchemists?" Russell asked as he followed.

"Yes!" Ed countered. "I hate being shot at! I like my enemies up close and personal." He was panting now as they ducked down another aisle, the shooting was coming closer, the aim better whenever someone got a clear shot.

"Don't hit that painting!" Maron shrieked behind them, and Ed almost laughed out loud. Maron didn't want what few precious items her family still had destroyed!

"Keep close to the artwork," he shouted, spotting Alphonse paralleling them on the next aisle over. "Get to the top there," he pointed to one of the shelves. "Swing across and climb like hell!"

Alphonse got there first, clambering to the top of the shelves and grabbing Ed's impromptu 'rope', swinging over and climbing up the highest shelves in the back as fast as he could. Russell beat Ed there by mere seconds.

"What is this?" Russell asked as he grabbed it and swung.

"A bullwhip!" Ed smirked. "First thing I could find!" As the whip swung back to him, Ed grabbed it and used it as well, sailing across the gap. When he reached the other side he yanked, and the whip came away from the large cross-beam above, the handle still in his hand, wrapping it lightly around his arm, he scrambled up the shelves like a squirrel.

The shots rang out below, and another chunk of wooden crate blew apart right above Ed's head. Damn that was close! He kept climbing, noting that Alphonse and Russell were almost to the top. There was more firing, and he heard a yelp of pain, but no one plummeted past him, so Ed figured that neither of them was dead, though one of them was wounded. It had sounded like Al; grimacing, Ed kept going.

He made it to the top, and clambered over, dropping to the ground on the other side using another rope he'd transmuted from plant matter earlier. Russell and Alphonse were sprawled on the ground that rose up behind the building higher than it did in the front. Russell was panting, and Al was grimacing in pain, bleeding from the right leg along the calf.

"Damn it," Ed panted. They would be coming around outside and catching them soon, there was no way they could outrun the Daquels' men if Al was injured. Well, that was why he had made the plan he had. "Just a second," he ran for the brush, and pulled out the Urn of Andrixos.

"You brought it with you?" Russell glared at him. "Are you crazy?"

"Probably," Ed replied, flashing him a cocky grin. "But they'll remember it differently." He ran to the rope, climbed back up and leaned over the edge of the large window ledge. The men were still below, though he could see several making a run for the doors at the far end to come out. They weren't quite there yet. "Hey!" he yelled out, and several of them froze and turned. Maron, standing near the middle, looked furious.

Ed held up the Urn. "This what you're looking for Maron?" he grinned. "The other one's a fake! I've had this one for nearly a week!"

One man aimed to fire, but Maron shrieked. "Don't! You might hit the Urn!"

Ed smacked his palms together lightly and held one hand to the Urn. "This is my way of saying 'thanks for the memories.'" And he let fly. The Urn began to suck in the air but, instead of letting it stop when it was done, Ed kept pumping alchemical energy into it, holding it on, and water began to gush from it's mouth, sucking air in faster as the Urn tried to make as much water as Ed was asking of it. The water streamed down onto the packaged artifacts and who knew what else the Daquels kept in there. The water cascaded down to the floor, beginning to flood the warehouse with surprising speed.

"No!" Maron squealed, the woman going half-mad as she watched the growing flood damaging and likely destroying so many expensive items. "Stop it!" she screamed at him. "Save them!" she shouted at her men. "Forget them and save the artwork!"

Ed hated to destroy anything that might have real value, but he wanted to teach them a lesson. He left the water on for another minute, then let the Urn stop. Turning, he jumped back down to the ground.

Russell and Al were watching him. "Was that necessary, Brother?" Al asked.

"Yes," Ed replied with all seriousness, cradling the Urn under one arm. "They bought known stolen goods, something powerful they didn't understand. This is a very small lesson compared to what could have happened to them."

"True," Al sighed. Russell had rolled up Al's pant leg and Ed could see the wound. Fortunately it was a clean shot, bleeding, but no bullet to dig out.

"So that's all it does?" Russell asked incredulously. "It makes water?"

"Fresh water," Ed clarified as he set the Urn down and yanked a sleeve off of the uniform jacket he had 'procured' from the outside guard before going inside. He transmuted it into a proper bandage and tied it tightly around Al's leg to stop blood flow. "Invaluable for long periods at sea. Can you walk, Al?"

Al used Russell and Ed as balance points as he stood and tried putting weight on the leg. He grimaced at once. "Not really," he admitted.

"That's all right," Ed smiled. "Just a second." He let go of Al only long enough to pick the Urn up again, then stepped up so Al could lean fully on his shoulders. Ed put one arm around his brother's back. Russell took the right side. "Okay, let's get back into town. I want to get the police out here before Maron and Fiero get away."

Al nodded. "It would be a shame to waste that opportunity, wouldn't it?"

"It's too bad we didn't get whoever stole it in the first place," Russell grumbled as they begin limping down the walking trail Ed had used to come at the place from behind in the first place.

"Don't be so sure," Ed grinned. "While we may not have caught him, or her, when it comes out that the stolen item was stolen right out from under everyone's nose and returned to the museum, a lot of people aren't going to look very professional. Also," he smirked. "When I got the Urn back, the first thing we did was get fingerprints off it. The police are currently using them to identify everyone who's touched that thing since it arrived at the Museum." The Auction House was supposed to be on the up-and-up, even though pretty much everyone knew it wasn't. Proving that the stolen item had come out of there at all, and been auctioned there, would not do well for Garallo or several of the people who used his Auction house to sell their wares.

Russell and Al both seemed to get that at once.

"You really are sadistic aren't you?" Russell smirked.

"The word you're looking for," Ed chuckled, "is thorough."

May 25th, 1934

It was a couple of days before Al was up and walking solidly, but his wound had been treated quickly. Edward hadn't entirely been lying about back up. There were a couple of cop cars that happened to be 'patrolling the neighborhood' that picked the three alchemists up at the bottom of the hill, and had a team at the warehouse within minutes. Ed and Russell explained the entire thing to the Pylos police while a medic took a look at Al's wound, cleaned it thoroughly, and bandaged it again.

They got a ride back to the museum, where Ed handed the Urn over to Lyrakos permanently with sincere thanks and a promise to write up his findings before they left for proper publication and historical archiving. After all, they needed something to put in the museum exhibit!

So while Al rested and took it easy, Ed holed up with him in their hotel room. He worked on writing up his notes and discovery in a more useful form, referencing his sketches he had made while solving the puzzle and explaining what the Urn did. The trick was doing so without explaining all of the fine details of how to make it work!

"Can you put it back the way it was?" Lyrakos asked when Ed handed over his findings the day they left. "the Urn is fascinating, and I have pictures of it now, but perhaps it would be less tempting for people to use it if they would have to solve the puzzle for themselves." Obviously, that little detail would not be in the display!

"Sure," Ed shrugged. It took only a few moments to put the puzzle back the way it was before. That was simple enough; the pieces actually seemed to want to resume their original positions. Once more, the Urn was sealed. "Thank you for allowing me to study it."

"No," Lyrakos chuckled. "Thank you! I think you have done Creta a far greater service."

"So we don't get anything but thanks?" Russell grumbled as they got on the train later that day.

"I'd say we got plenty more than we bargained for already," Al chuckled. He had an entire seat to himself, with his leg propped up on a cushion. Ed was glad for his brother's good natured humor about things. He knew 'he' would be a lot grouchier of he was looking at a week or more on a train with an injured leg! It wasn't serious, but they had suggested Al stay off it for a couple of weeks until it healed up properly. The doctor in Pylos had given him a pair of crutches to use to get around; though Ed had almost smacked his brother when Al assured the doctors that Ed and Russell were more than adequate!

"Definitely," Ed agreed. He had copies of his notes, photos the museum had given him of the Urn, and he'd picked up a couple of things for Winry; gifts, and apologies for being gone longer than planned. He suspected he was going to need them when she found out he'd gotten into trouble again! "I hope the girls aren't too mad at us."

"Winry's going to be pissed," Al grinned and shrugged. "She always is when we come back from something all beat up. Though I guess this time it'll be Elicia's turn to be mad since I'm the one who got hurt."

Russell got strangely quiet, and it was only later, when Ed asked Al what was up when Russell left the cabin for a while, that he found out about the girl back home their old acquaintance was apparently pining over. Who'd have thought it! Ed might have found the situation amusing if he didn't empathize. He didn't want to think about what he would have done if he'd lost his chance with Winry because she had found someone else.

Women were complicated enough as it was. Ed pulled his brimmed hat down over his eyes to block the afternoon sun and decided it was a good time to take a nap.

June 4th, 1934

They had been gone almost a complete month, over a week longer than the long-end stay Ed had originally told Winry and Elicia they'd be gone. Russell rode with them all the way back to Central this time; planning to change trains there to head back to Xenotime.

Winry, Sara, Aldon, and Elicia were waiting on the platform. Ed had called ahead during a stop to let them know when they were a couple of days out, so they wouldn't be too surprised! He'd been vague about why they were late. Those things were better explained in person.

"You sure took long enough," Winry smirked as Ed came down the stairs, though she fell into his arms willingly enough with a hug and a welcoming kiss. Sara and Aldon each took a leg and hugged him as well.

"Things got complicated," Ed chuckled as he let go of her only to give his kids the hugs they deserved. "But we got the job done."

"I'm glad to hear it," Elicia smiled. "Where's Alphonse?"

"Right behind me," Ed chuckled as he put Aldon up on his shoulders. "Well, almost," he amended as Russell came down first. "We picked up a stray on the way out there."

"Russell Tringham?" Winry looked at him a moment, then chuckled. "Somehow I should be more surprised, but I'm not." While Winry had only met him a couple of times, Ed had told her the story of Xenotime, and then freeing Russell and Fletcher and their part in getting in to stop Dante. "How are you?"

"Well enough," Russell smiled. "It's good to see you, Winry. And to meet you, Elicia," he took her hand politely. "Alphonse has been talking about you…a lot."

Elicia chuckled. "Nice to meet you," she replied. "Will you be in town long?"

"My train leaves in the morning," Russell replied. "I have…things to take care of at home."

Things; like a certain girl perhaps? Ed didn't comment. He didn't say anything to Elicia either, but he couldn't help but notice just how much she had 'grown' in a month!

"Well hopefully you'll be our guest for dinner then at least," Winry smiled. "There's going to be plenty."

"Thank you," Russell looked a little surprised by the hospitality, but he accepted willingly. "I'd like that."

Ed turned as he heard Elicia gasp, and spotted Al limping off the train on crutches. "Alphonse!" she hurried over to him. "What happened?"

"Just a little accident," Al chuckled, shifting his weight a little more to his good leg as he hugged her; it was a little awkward given his leg and her stomach! "I'm fine, really. What about you? You look umm…well, wow."

Elicia chuckled. "I've been more mobile," she replied, though she still looked worried.

"An accident?" Winry looked between Al and Ed, then included Russell in her suspicious glances. "Just what happened in Creta anyway?"

"It's a long story," Ed replied. "Best discussed somewhere less public."

Winry pursed her lips and Ed knew she wanted to lay into him right there and demand an explanation, but she was also more intelligent than that. She sighed. "Fine. Let's get everyone into the car and go home. Gracia's making dinner, so it should be ready when we get there."

Things were a little crowded in the car. Winry was driving, with Ed and Russell in front, Elicia and the two kids were piled in the back with Alphonse. They got home, got everyone inside, and got Al settled comfortably on the couch with Elicia cuddled up next to him. Then Winry –predictably- rounded on Ed. "All right, Edward. I want to know what happened in Pylos! You're a week late coming home and you never said anything about Al being injured!"

Ed sighed and shrugged. "Well, it would have been all right, but the Urn was stolen before we got there."

"Stolen! So you did what, looked at empty space for a week?" Winry quipped. Obviously though, she had to know what that meant. Her expression darkened further. "You went after it didn't you?"

"What did you expect them to do?" Gracia commented with a soft chuckle as she set a large pan of meatloaf and potatoes in the middle of the table. It looked delicious, and smelled even better!

Winry sighed and crossed her arms under her breasts. "I take it you got it back."

"We did," Ed replied, trying to keep his focus on the story instead of dinner. "It wasn't all that complicated really. I snuck into the Auction house, stole the Urn with a bait and switch, and got out. We had Russell pretend to be me to keep eyes focused the other way."

"Wait," Winry interrupted and looked between Ed and Russell. "You 'let' him impersonate you, after you got so pissed at him for it before? And you," she glared at Russell. "You went along with it? Are you both mad?!" Her death-stare turned to Al. "Why didn't you stop this madness?"

Russell looked mildly stunned to have been included in the tongue-lashing, but Al shrugged. "It needed to be done, Winry. We got the Urn back to the museum, and Ed figured out how it works. It's not his fault I got shot."

"What?" Elicia sat up, staring at her husband. "You didn't say you were 'shot!'"

"Why don't we continue the exclamations over dinner," Gracia suggested firmly.

"That sounds delightful Mrs. Hughes," Russell ducked past Ed and Winry, looking relieved to have some way out of things.

"When did you get shot at, Edward?" Winry wasn't done. She continued to watch him as they all sat down at the table. Ed helped Al to the table before sitting down.

"After they detained Al and Russell to try and figure out how to make my fake Urn work." He was actually pleased that the fake had been so convincing. "Unfortunately, the man who bought it knew my face."

"Who was it?" Winry asked as he sat down across from her.

"Fiero Daquel."

"That bastard?" Winry glared, face flushing. "Pardon my language." She didn't usually curse much, especially not with the kids at the table, or guests! "What was he doing?"

"Planning to use the Urn to get back all the money he lost to the government by ransoming it back to the museum," Ed replied, filling his plate and taking a large cut of meatloaf. Gracia had prepared a large salad and hot buttered garlic toast as well; plenty of food indeed! "He and Maron both; She's the one who ordered them to fire on us after I knocked out Fiero. Guess I can't really blame her for that. I was trespassing in her warehouse," he explained calmly through his first bite. "And I smashed the fake Urn; but she thought it was the real thing."

Winry sighed, Elicia looked concerned, and Gracia just seemed calmly accepting. "So you escaped under gunfire," Winry said. "Did you at least manage to get them arrested?"

"Oh yeah," Ed grinned. "Both Fiero and Maron will be doing serious time for buying a known artifact on the black market. I also destroyed a good bit of their personal collection that was stored in the building."

Winry's frown changed to a small smile then. "Good. Maybe now they'll have learned their lesson about messing with things that don't concern them."

"You're not planning any more excursions like this in the near future are you?" Elicia asked.

Ed shook his head. "No, why?"

"Because if you are, I'm not letting you take Al! You're not very good at taking care of him!"

July 14th, 1934

William Elric: Alphonse looked down at the warm little bundle in his arms, smiling as his son tried, unsuccessfully, to suckle milk out of Al's index finger. His eyes were the blue typical of newborns, though Al expected that would change before long; the blue was kind of muddy, and the soft down on the baby's head was the darker end of blond; or at least, it seemed to be! "He's perfect, Elicia," he said softly, feeling surprisingly choked up. He had expected to feel emotional, but right now, he knew that if someone had dared to threaten this new life he held, he would have fought them with a ferocity he hadn't known himself capable of. His heart was filled to overflowing with joy, love, and the overwhelming need to protect his family.

"He's ours," Elicia replied with a tired chuckle from beside him. Will had been born at home, and the doctor had already left, giving them time to themselves given the late hour. Or rather, early hour; it was nearly four in the morning!

Al was perched on the edge of their bed. He smiled, his gaze shifting to his wife. "That's part of the point," he chuckled. "You're incredible. You know that right?"

Elicia flushed slightly; pleased and probably a little embarrassed. "It's natural, Al. It's not like I could do much else."

"But you handled it so well," Al countered, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "You didn't threaten my life once!"

"The thought had occurred to me," Elicia admitted, "but I decided having you around to help with diapers and late night walking would be better than having to do it all myself."

"Thank goodness for that," Al laughed. At the moment, he felt there wasn't anything that could wipe the smile from his face ever again. He knew for certain – though he had never doubted – that the greatest treasures weren't expensive artifacts, but the love and miracle of the family that was his!


End file.
